'And does he know Keith dumped you?'

'No.'

'So he kissed you thinking you had a fiance? Boy, he must have it bad.'

'I meant what I said earlier... about never seeing him again... if you want.'

'Oh, come off it! And have me painted as the evil sister who stands in the way of true love?'

'I'll do whatever you want.'

She sighed, and rested her chin on her fist. 'But tell me, Kate, is it true love? Or is it you just enjoying a good piece of drama?'

I had no intention of crying, but suddenly I couldn't hold back the tears. 'Oh, Jean,' I sniffled, 'if this isn't the real thing, I don't know what is.'

'Christ!' she said. 'I'd have stayed married to him if I'd known you were going to get your claws in.' She flashed me a wry smile.

'I really didn't mean for this to happen.'

'I know, but it has.'

'I just want to talk to him he'll probably have changed his mind.'

'Oh, go and talk to him.'

'Will I tell him you're OK?'

'Tell him whatever the h.e.l.l you like.'

We left the cafe together and I walked with her as far as the quays. I didn't want to leave her until I felt confident that she meant what she'd said. But, as she'd also said, it wasn't her job to make me feel better.

'Look,' she said, as we were about to part company, 'I'm not over the moon about this, but I'm not going to make you swear never to see him again. Mike and I are over. I'm reconciled to the idea of him being with other women. I wasn't ready for it being a woman I know, that's all. You do whatever you feel you have to.'

And with that she walked off.

Pa.s.sing by the turn to Hartstonge Street I was tempted to go and lie down for a while; it was hot and sticky and I could have done with a change of clothes, but I knew that if I didn't keep going I might lose my courage and, after all, the hardest part was over. I went round the corner to the shop and bought a bottle of water, drank half and dabbed the rest on my face and neck. Then I set off up O'Connell Avenue.

By the time I got to his house I was trembling and although the sun was still shining, I felt a chill run down my spine. I opened the gate and walked up the path. The front and back gardens were the only things he had left untouched. The little old lady who had owned the house before him had had a penchant for kitsch and twee (although to her the winding path, the carefully trimmed shrubberies and the cla.s.sical statuettes were probably the height of sophistication) and Mike had decided he liked the look. I rang the doorbell several times, but there was no answer, so I sat down on the little garden bench, drew my knees up under my chin and waited.

I wished I'd brought a magazine. Pictures of badly dressed celebrities or makeup tips for the new season would have helped me relax. I could have become utterly absorbed in what hem lengths, boot heights and lip lines were doing this winter. Instead I began to imagine what Mike would look like as he bent over one of the miniature hedges to trim a stray leaf, or how the balance of weight on the bench would shift were he to sit down beside me. I resisted getting up and looking in the window at what must now be a completed refurbishment. I knew it would be beautiful, a simple, unadorned, functional living s.p.a.ce. I knew that even the most innocuous objects could become erotically charged. Even his neighbours, as they walked past, seemed imbued with a certain charm. Did they realize how lucky they were to be living so close to him? If he didn't come home soon I was in danger of working myself into a state of sublime panic. Luckily, he came through the gate at that very moment. He had been out for a run and was taking off his shirt. As yet he hadn't seen me.

He was breathing heavily as he stood, hunched over, one arm resting on the low pillar. The movement of his ribcage seemed forced and uncomfortable. I was about to say something when he turned. He was visibly shocked. 'Jesus!' he said, as he put his shirt back on.

'I was waiting for you,' I said nonsensically.

'I was about to ring you,' he said, his voice low and unsteady. 'I should have called sooner.'

'That's OK.'

'Look, Kate, I'm really sorry. I wanted to apologize for last night. I don't know what came over me. I I behaved very badly.'

'No, you didn't.'

'Yes, Kate, but it's entirely my fault. I should have known better.' His voice was gathering momentum but it was still weak and dry.

'It's OK. That's what I wanted to tell you. Keith and I are broken up.'

'What?' He was truly horrified: the colour drained from his face.

'It's OK. We've been broken up for a couple of weeks. So... last night was OK.'

He was breathing heavily again.

'Can we go inside?' I asked.

He seemed disoriented, but then he produced a key from a tiny pocket in his shorts.

The interior of the house was beautiful. To the frenzy in my mind it seemed a haven of calm and comfort. It was becoming obvious, though, that whatever turmoil I was going through, his was worse.

'I'll make some coffee,' he said, but he went to the fridge and poured a gla.s.s of water, which he drank in one gulp. Then he poured one for me. I had sat on the edge of the couch. He remained standing. He seemed to have forgotten the coffee. 'You and Keith broke up?'

'A couple of weeks ago. He said I wasn't in love with him.'

'Weren't you?'

'No.'

'You you hadn't said anything.'

'I didn't know what to say. It all seemed a bit ridiculous.'

'So... you...' He kept rubbing his face and running his fingers through his hair.

'So I'm not going to marry him and and I'm free to kiss whoever I want.'

'No, Kate. You're not free, I'm not free. It's not like that.'

'Why isn't it? Mike, last night was amazing. It was '

'It was wrong.'

'Why?'

'You know why.'

His voice had become paper thin despite the strength of his words.

'Because of Jean? She'll get over it.'

'No, Kate...'

'I just talked to her. She could get used to the idea.'

'No.'

'Yes.'

'No, Kate. No.'

'Why? Are you going to tell me you didn't mean to kiss me? Because I know you did. And there's no way you could kiss like that unless... unless you felt something.'

'Kate, it was wrong.'

'It wasn't wrong. We're both single.'

'It's not as simple as that and you know it.'

'I don't know anything any more except that I love you.'

'Don't say that.'

'It's true.'

'I shouldn't have kissed you.'

'It was the most amazing kiss of my life.'

'Don't say say that.' that.'

'Do you love me?'

'Don't do this, Kate.'

'Do you love me?' I was surprised at my forwardness. But as soon as I saw him again and his physical presence collided with the intense memory of his skin against mine, I knew I was going to fight for this man, even if the battle was with him.

'Do you love me?' I asked again.

He sat down on the chair opposite.

'You have to tell me,' I said. 'You have to tell me if you do.'

He kept shaking his head and staring at the floor.

'Do you love me?' I asked again.

Finally, he looked up. 'Yes,' he said, very slowly, his voice quivering. 'I've loved you for years. But like any sensible man who finds himself in love with his wife's sister, I've suppressed it. Up to now, I've done a fairly good job.'

He looked up at me. He sighed. He took a deep breath. 'I know she left me. I know we're not really married any more but...'

I couldn't imagine what his reasons might be.

'... it's not that simple. You're her sister. This would kill her.'

'Do you still love her?'

'I still care what happens to her.'

There seemed to be no answer to that. 'So, is this it, then?'

'It has to be.'

'It doesn't.'

How could he tell me he loved me, then send me away?

'I'm so sorry I started this.'

'You didn't start it. That's why Keith broke up with me. He knew I was in love with you.'

'He broke up with you because of me?'

'No. Because of me. I was in love with you all the time but I wouldn't let myself see it.'

'Oh, Kate... if I've ruined your chance of happiness...'

'I'd never have been happy with Keith. I fell in love with you because you're you. I've always loved you.'

My words were filling the cool s.p.a.ce of his house. He could hear them, but he wouldn't pick them off and realize they were his.

'Kate, I think you should go,' he said.

'I'm not a child any more,' I snapped. 'You don't have to protect me from myself.'

'Please, Kate.'

It was no use.

I got up and walked through the front door, down the winding path and closed the gate behind me. I didn't know if he watched me go. I didn't know if he truly wanted me to leave. But that was it. I was gone.

He was gone.

17.